I got caught in the fantasy

Lost on a cloud of words made from mountains

Hung up on a respect thought ever binding

Stuffed into a small corner clawing my way out

Singing songs about rainbows through clouds in cryptic visual hypnotics

Lost in a cord that vision created and lifetimes set in motion

Left out in the cold to be cast as nothing and nobody

Though bodies warmed nights that hearts would link memories

Another stone thrown into the ocean to send ripples towards the next galaxy

Confession of secret passions locked tight in lips covered in black ink and pink erasers

Lost to all decent speck of caring that shoulders burdens laid on pillows and blankets

Sliding doors and string dimensions make peace among the trap of repeating the same monotony against the window

Routine and stale banter lets the mind take rest in never giving up the pedestal and gracing the path of partners parting ways in the dark

Forgetting is not forgiving and history always repeats when repent is left to the weary

Slivers of shadows sprinkle in dreams undone and phantoms pushed to the back of the bus

Seeping from under the seat with google eyes peeking out like schoolgirls pranking unsuspecting boys, mooning the bus driver.

When the hate moves away what fills in the gap

Mr Baldwin said it best

Forced to deal with the pain no longer held at bay by the judgements cast on you

Opinions left to the imagination but never verified for the convenience to a wounded child.

Rhetoric overheard at the diner pulling the puppet string over the eyes to not make contact on the way out.

Close up gives sucker punches to the voice box saying clever catch phrases to maneuver the body away from looking under the hood.

Hold on to the sweet self righteous rage

Mrs. Brown wanting us to do it better.

Pulling up love and compassion under the might of separation cost too much pride.

Uncomfortable reverence walking softly past a lineage of hard nails and peaceful division.

Disposable life symbolic on the grocery store. A shipment of heartbeats to be restocked next week.

Wild and daring to fall and get up even after the dirt from the road flies out from under screeching tires quick to leave breath in the dust.

All one in the secret divots that death reveals, yet our ability to exist weighs solely on those others who keep pushing hate into the gap.

Scared to face the pain.

Less than human.

Programmed to do it and exceptional to wipe it clean.

A whole world past good versus evil and a new standard to inspire those pesky Others to see a small mend in the gap

Past pain

To find brother and sisterly love.

New love spark

Liking the potential of it all

Draped in fears pushed down for at least a few days

My haze brushed the whiskers of your haze

Wobbling past each veil of past them and they, trying to not sabotage emotion

Too much too soon

Not enough as the dawn breaks

Coming up for air to figure out what is real and how much illusion laid glimmering in the eyes

Wonderment enchanting but timid in cycles left to ages of been there done this

Learning a bit from mistakes of youth

Tripping again over eager desire desperate to not look so

checking the boxes hoping to fill all that Virgo Venus makes for fairy tales

Remembering scores go in each direction and imperfections make good pillow talk

wait and see has never been my strong suit but maturity makes my effort pat me on the back

simple joy in the exchange caught by surprise and the baggage yet to tempt the risk of being hurt

all the markings of something worth knowing and anything less is a heart not touched

gliding in the water with ears tucked just below the noise to watch the clouds decide which direction the sun and rain must peak around.

Ironically

That mirror points to poison

Making potion locked into sap of a maple

Ironically the first represents the last

Creating the puzzle and all jagged edges that allow the fun and frustration to begin again

And again

Ironically

She is he

He is she

With a thin veil giving different perspectives to the outside

Each containing both on the inside

Ironically

As above is below and above brings below to the surface

Ironically

We see infinity stretched into dimensions that all lead back to cells in the body

At the gates of the medicine wheel

Broken open at each pass to the south

Colors skewed at youth in the arms of the grandmother

Trust built on two thrones driven by the fire

Stardust casting invisible walls to rage against

Broken open to loose control of fragmented opinion to dynamic confusion

Combustible under a blanket of feathers and beds made of tree cover

Misty windows pointed toward the dawn

Tinted black for hiding to take flight

Broken open in death while living surrendered to the word

Poetry

Replacing the journal of time and records in the ethers

Touching light just long enough to see past shortcomings manifested in maddening swells

Warm hearted to embrace the ground keeping the senses in check

Broken open in body and blood

Left to echoing snapshots of a chaotic space lost to the electric lobes vibrating the drums at night

Grabbing tightly to tiny fingers looking for the volcano of feminine essence

Broken open by fears and Holy Spirit thatched calmly with the sound of distant thunder

Hanging sparks of danger in captivated observance, locking feet in place determined to swim

No shelter

In the open

Flagging prayers plotting a course just beyond knowing

New roots coming on the heals of monsters and sagebrush

In the broken

Spots running across the scent of lilac in the doorway to mystery

Broken open.